"Very true," Hohenheim assented. "You are just the man to cope with this capricious beauty, Prince Emil. Adieu! May you prosper!"
The gentlemen raised their hats.
"Farewell!" said Cossigny, "by the way, I'll make a suggestion. We shall best impress the countess while in this mood, by our generosity; let us heap coals of fire on her head by sending a telegram to the court-gardener to convert the whole palace into a floral temple to welcome her return. It will touch a mysterious chord of sympathy if she meets only these mute messengers of our adoration. When on entering she finds this surprise and remembers how basely she treated us this morning, her heart will be touched and she will invite us to dine the day after to-morrow."
"A capital plan," cried Wengenrode and St. Génois, gaily. "Do your Highnesses agree?"
"Certainly," replied Hohenheim, with formal courtesy, "when the point in question is a matter of gallantry, a Hohenheim is never backward."
"I beg to be allowed to contribute also, but incognito. She would regard such an attention from me as a piece of sentimentality, and it would produce just the contrary effect," Prince Emil answered.
"As you please."
"Let us go to the telegraph office!" cried Wengenrode, eagerly.
"Farewell, gentlemen."
"Au revoir, Prince Emil! Are you going to return to the lionesses' den?"